I Became the Mastermind Who Betrays the Heroines-Chapter 111 - Prophet (1)

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 111 - Prophet (1)

The interfaculty duel ended amidst thunderous cheers.

The boy—the Serpent—whose shocking performance had left an unforgettable mark.

After much deliberation among the faculty, he was unanimously declared the victor. And within just a single week, he became the hottest topic across the entire academy.

His name was on everyone’s lips.

It was only natural.

After all, he had achieved a feat long considered impossible in the academy’s storied history.

Those who had witnessed the match firsthand knew the truth.

What they had seen wasn’t just raw talent. It was something greater—a power with the potential to reach the stars.

A glimpse into the future of the continent.

The one who had once touched the highest star—

The Crimson Sword Saint.

And now, three years after his death—

Another "Star" had appeared.

The attention he received was only fitting.

—I still can’t get that moment out of my head.

—I mean, we all knew he was way beyond student level, but… who would've thought he’d actually beat a professor?

—Especially that part at the end, when he split the tidal wave… gave me chills.

—They’re calling it a talent that’ll go down in history.

—I heard all sorts of organizations are in a frenzy. The Imperial family, the Magic Tower, the Knight Orders, noble houses… they’re all flooding the academy with letters, trying to recruit him.

—The assistant instructors haven’t even been able to sleep, trying to manage everything.

Unrivaled talent always draws admiration.

Students spoke with shining eyes.

The jealousy and resentment that once lingered around him had long since faded, replaced by genuine awe.

Proof was the ultimate measure—the undeniable force that compels recognition from others.

—Seems like he’s actually a pretty decent guy, huh?

—For someone that skilled, he doesn’t even act arrogant… And he rejected all those recruitment offers, too. Kinda makes him likable, right?

—Didn’t he say he just wants to focus on his studies for now? He was really firm about it.

—I heard he gets along well with that commoner girl, too.

—His vibe’s a bit intense, sure, but if you look closely, he’s actually kinda handsome.

—I should try talking to him sometime.

The public opinion surrounding him grew increasingly positive.

But, of course, not everyone was convinced.

There were those who harbored doubts.

—I mean, yeah, there’s no denying his talent, but… don’t you think it’s a little sudden?

—Isn’t his family more famous for alchemy than magic?

—Sure, talent doesn’t have to follow bloodlines, but still—how does a family with generations of alchemists suddenly produce a mage like him?

—I thought they were scholars, deeply rooted in academia.

—And with talent that overwhelming, shouldn’t people have heard of him long before now? Why is there no history, no rumors, nothing?

—Feels like they’re hiding something.

Fair questions.

Why had this "Star," silent for so long, suddenly emerged into the world now?

The curiosity lingered—but slowly faded.

There was no one who could offer any answers.

And so, buried beneath the endless chatter, the questions surrounding the Serpent’s family slipped quietly beneath the surface—

Forgotten.

Lost to the depths, along with any hope of answers.

* * *

A week passed since the uproar of the event.

I spent it in leisure.

With the practical exams and other hectic schedules behind me, I had a stretch of free time before the next break.

Of course, the academy’s attention was still focused on me in the aftermath of the duel.

But aside from that minor detail, the days were peaceful enough.

I spent time with the people around me.

"Congratulations on your victory!"

"Lady Regia."

"I knew you’d win from the start, my lord! I-I’ve always believed in you…!"

"Such unwavering faith weighs heavily on my shoulders."

I ruffled the protagonist’s hair as she bounced with joy.

"Not that it’s surprising or anything… but still, good job."

"Your words please me."

I responded with a smile to the aloof villainess who offered her curt praise.

"Was it tough?"

"Not particularly."

"Hm… You really are amazing, Judas."

I shared a brief exchange with the Little Prince, who nodded to herself in quiet admiration.

"You’re stronger than I thought."

"Fufu… I am, after all, someone who stands by Her Highness’s side. If I struggled with something this trivial, I’d hardly be worthy of meeting your gaze."

"You always know how to run your mouth, huh."

"So, do you dislike it?"

"…No, not really."

I even teased the thorny Rose, just to see her scowl.

Though the words varied, they all carried the same sentiments—concern and congratulations.

Deep down, I appreciated them.

It was a peaceful, ordinary time at the academy.

Additionally—

I met with Professor Cadel Evans, my opponent from the duel.

There was a tradition tied to this event: the loser must grant the winner one request.

As the victor, I had the right to make such a demand.

And my request was simple.

—Step down from next year’s Head Professor selection.

—I intend to secure that position for my teacher.

—In return, I’d like your support in ensuring she retains it moving forward.

It was a bold request.

Excessive, even, for something that had started as just an exhibition match.

I half-expected him to refuse.

But surprisingly, Professor Cadel signed the contract without protest.

Perhaps because he’d been humiliated so thoroughly in front of the entire student body—

His pride wouldn’t let him decline.

Of course, his clenched jaw looked like it might shatter from how tightly he was grinding his teeth.

But that wasn’t my concern.

All I did was return the humiliation he’d dealt to me.

—I’ll remember this.

A parting shot, as if trying to set up some grand future revenge.

I met it with nothing but a faint, mocking smile.

I had no intention of backing down from such petty mind games.

Thinking back on his twisted expression still made me chuckle.

"Fufu."

"…I don’t understand."

Selena stared at me, bewildered.

Her tired eyes glinted with curiosity, strands of violet hair falling messily over her face.

After a brief pause, she asked softly,

"May I ask why?"

"Hm?"

"I’m referring to the duel. You stepped in because of me, didn’t you? I just wonder—was that really necessary from your perspective?"

"Did I overstep?"

"Not at all. I’m grateful, truly. I’m simply curious."

"Fufu… As I told you before, that was the reason."

I smiled gently, warmth touching the corners of my lips.

"I did it for my teacher."

"…"

"You’ve helped me countless times. Watching you be insulted like that irritated me. Ignoring it would’ve been shameful for me as your student."

"I thought it was just a joke when you said that."

She frowned slightly.

"That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?"

I replied playfully, stepping closer.

A faint trace of alcohol lingered in the air around her.

"I did it purely for your sake."

"As I’ve said before… our relationship is based solely on a contract. You owe me no loyalty."

"That’s fine. It wasn’t out of obligation."

"Then what was it?"

"Taming."

I lingered near her—close enough to be noticed, but not enough to be pushed away.

Taming was all about maintaining that delicate balance.

Staying within reach, never too far nor too close, until familiarity settled in.

Even if she wasn’t aware of it, the bond between us was slowly growing deeper.

"Don’t feel burdened. I simply wanted to repay the kindness you’ve shown me."

She fell silent for a moment, then gave a small nod.

"…If that’s the reason, then… thank you."

Her lifeless eyes wavered—just slightly.

A ripple across the still surface of her heart.

Even the frostiest soul had its cracks.

Updat𝓮d from frёewebnoѵēl.com.

Satisfied, I stepped back.

No need to rush.

This was just the beginning.

To conquer someone wounded by grief, one had to move carefully.

And so, I continued my slow, deliberate taming.

* * *

Two days later.

I visited the main building to claim my reward from the duel.

Aside from the tradition where the loser grants a request, the ultimate victor was entitled to additional benefits.

After all, it was one of the academy’s premier events.

A reward, huh?

Had it been something trivial, I might’ve brushed it off.

But this time, I couldn’t be so sure.

Even with my knowledge of the original story, this was unfamiliar territory.

I needed to confirm it myself.

"Excuse me."

Creaaak—

I opened the ornate door and stepped inside.

What greeted me was a vast room lined with towering bookshelves, like an enormous library.

At its center sat a single desk—

And behind it, an old man with white hair, reclining in his chair.

His pale, faded eyes fixed on me with an unwavering gaze.

"I’ve been expecting you."

He gestured for me to come in.

Two freshly brewed cups of tea sat on the table, as if he’d known I’d arrive.

Pushing aside my thoughts, I greeted him politely.

"This is the first time we’ve met face-to-face."

Though he appeared at every academy event, he rarely, if ever, interacted directly with the students.

The head of the academy—

"Dean."

Dean of the Galimard Academy.

Gaston Galimard.

Ever since I arrived in this world, I’d been eager to meet him.

And now, thanks to my victory, I finally had the chance.

I got straight to the point.

"I’ll be blunt."

"Go ahead."

In my mind, I recalled what I knew about him.

An old man with a kind, grandfatherly face.

To the people here, he was simply the Dean.

But in the original story, he bore another name—

"Prophet."

The sinner cursed by the world, doomed to see beyond its veil.

The Prophet of the Apocalypse.

(prophète de l'apocalypse)

"What do you know?"

"…"

A direct question, with no room for evasion.

His pale eyes didn’t flinch.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"…What kind of answer are you hoping for, traitor?"

The Prophet saw right through me.

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]